Nothing but the truth
by PrettyLittleGallagherGirl
Summary: Cammie Morgan is a liar. That is what she does she lies. She lies to stay alive. She lies to run from a past that is haunting her. But when she is accepted into the Gallagher Academy she realises that lying might not be an option for much longer as her lies and her past is catching up to her. Adopted from It was different then.
1. Men in suits

**I didn't say no when they ushered me into the sleek black limo. I also didn't say no when they asked me if I wanted to attend the Gallagher Academy for exceptional young women. Nor did I say no when they asked me if I was fine but then again I definitely didn't say yes either. **

They came into the house wearing black suits and tinted sunglasses. They didn't take them off when my foster mum asked them to sit; they didn't take them off at all.

**Number of men: 2**

**Number of men standing: 2**

**Number of men smiling: 0**

I slunk back into the shadows making myself invisible after all people only see what they expect to see and I was not expected. One of the men talked quietly into what I assume was a comms unit while the one standing by the couch finally decided to talk.  
"I wager you're wondering why we're here" at this my foster mum nodded.  
"You're foster daughter has been accepted into the Gallagher Academy for exceptional young women on a full scholarship so don't worry you won't have to pay anything" at this he attempted a smile but it came out looking forced. My foster mum nodded and I could see her holding back a sigh of relief at not having to put up with me anymore.  
"So when will she leave" my foster mum tried but she really couldn't help but let excitement seep into her voice. At this I quietly moved towards the stairs making it seem like I just came down the steps,  
"Leave were" the men didn't jump at the sound of my voice but I could tell they were startled. The man who had been talking the whole time (You know what? I'm just gonna call him Chatty) said  
"The Gallagher Academy for exceptional young women you have been accepted your records show that you are a very smart young lady" at this I only nodded  
"Surprise" Chatty said in a voice that clearly showed that he liked to spring surprises on people. I must have disappointed him by my lack of reaction because he eventually shrugged and informed my foster mum that he would be by the next day to pick me up.


	2. Road trip

**Punk. That was my cover. You know the type: Spiky black hair, larger than necessary clothes, leather jackets the type that will look you in the eyes daring you to argue and say "Black is the new black." But that day when Mr Solomon and the others stared at me I felt like blurting out every single thing I've been through. I felt like telling them "This is not who I really am." I felt like saying "This is not who I want to be"**

I have never been a patient person since everything happened so watching the trees pass by the car widow was not the most enjoyable experience. I am seriously not enjoying this road trip the only other person in this limo is the driver and there is a big stinking screen separating us and he doesn't open it to talk. My bag is on my lap and my suitcase is by my feet. I'd insisted on keeping my luggage near me the driver was suspicious at first but then came to the conclusion that there couldn't be a bomb in my bag as I was merely a civilian so he let it go. If only he knew the truth. I want to open my bag and fiddle with the contents but I can't because of the driver and the very noticeable camera hanging from the roof so I sigh and stare back out the window and count.

**Things I pass on a single block:**

**5 lampposts  
11 houses  
1 mini playground  
3 decent looking gardens **

It's a never- ending game I play until I reach the school. Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women. I feel like throwing up when the name is mentioned it sounds just like a school for rich stuck up snobs. I bet that is their cover but I know the truth hidden in Roseville, Virginia is a school for spies but of course I'm not supposed to know that.  
I haven't moved my eyes from the window once. I don't allow myself to tire. My life is a game to some people. I die, they win. I live they lose. That is why I am always on my toes. When the limo finally pulls up in front of the mansion that is the Gallagher Academy it is dark and my internal clock blinks 7:32pm.

I don't say I word as I swing my bag over my shoulder, open the door and step out of the limo with my black suitcase in my hand. Once I am out of the limo I drag it behind me. It makes a banging noise as it hits each step I drag it on. The noise sounds like gunshots loud in the darkness of the night. When I finally make it to the top of the stairs there is a person waiting for me. I feel numb looking at him, his name is Joe Solomon but of course I am not supposed to know that. Yet. He greets me with a simple, small head nod to which I don't reply. He turns around and enters the school knowing without asking that I will follow him. I do.

The Gallagher Academy has the same amount of grand on the inside than on the outside. The walls are decorated with certificates and school pictures and medals that the students have won. There is even a statue of the schools founder in the foyer. It looks harmless. I know the truth. Mr Solomon leads me through ten corridors. I cast a quick eye over everything I pass and commit it to my memory. I don't let my hands touch anything. Mr Solomon never once looks back but from the racket my suitcase is making on the tile floor he definitely knows I am following him. Finally we reach a door. Mr Solomon opens it and I trail in behind him. The room is large with a desk in the corner, a couch and my mum.

Mr Solomon introduces her to me as Mrs Morgan. As much as I wish I could have predicted this, I didn't. Mrs Morgan's full name is Rachel Morgan. My last name is Morgan. To Mrs Morgan or my mum, I shouldn't be alive. To the people who want me dead I shouldn't be alive. Standing before me is someone I should be calling mum and running up to and hugging, someone who shouldn't think I'm dead, someone I haven't seen since I was five and before everything went so horribly wrong. Standing before me is my mum and she doesn't even know that I am her daughter. Heck she doesn't even know I survived that night.

**AN: Hey everybody I never introduced myself last chapter so here it is I am Pretty Little Gallagher Girl and I adopted this story from it was different then. I will be changing some stuff though In fact I already have so it won't be exactly the same even in the chapter she already wrote. But I hope to stay true to what she was trying to achieve. But hey awesome people thanks so much for reading this it means a lot to me and it would be so super awesome if you could chuck me a review or PM me. I am really excited to get to know you guys and I hope you like this story. **

**Ps: I don't own the Gallagher Girls, Ally Carter does this is something everybody seems to do so this is my disclaimer.**

**Cheers**


	3. First impressions

**They say fear either shuts you down or it wakes you up. I haven't really experienced fear but I've learnt that in my case it does in deed wake me up. I don't fear a lot of things but one of my greatest fears is that my past should one day catch up to me.**

I felt like I had been sucker punched hard in the stomach so I sat down ridiculously fast on the couch and turn to face Mr Solomon trying to keep from glancing over my shoulder at my mother. We eye each other for 24 seconds until finally he breaks the silence.  
"Are you Cameron Carter?" he asks. I'd changed my real name to my foster name. On the CIA database and any other huge or small organisation, I am Cameron Carter.  
"Yes" I lie and it takes all my willpower not to look over at my mother. Mr Solomon nods just as I expected him to. My lies are a thing to admire. No one knows when I lie. No one knows when I tell the truth.  
"You are sixteen, correct?" he asks. I nod.  
"Welcome to the Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women, Cameron." He says. I nod and inspect my finger nails. My cover at this school is to be a total rebel a B word to the core. There is a knock on the door and three people barge in. One is a dark- skinned girl who is beautiful in an exotic way. Another is a black haired beauty wearing a silk sleeping gown. I mark her down as the senator's daughter. The third is small and pixie pretty. She looks around the room as if calculating a math problem.  
"Where is Anna?" Mr Solomon asks them.  
"She looked tired so we let her sleep" the senators daughter replies at this Mr Solomon simply nods so the Senators daughter continues  
"What did you call us here for?" Mr Solomon looks at me and they follow his gaze.  
"Oh," is the only sound that comes out of pixie girls mouth.  
"Hello" the dark skinned girl says attempting to be polite. I don't reply. She then turns to Mr Solomon and asks him,  
"Have you told her yet?" at this Mr Solomon shakes his head. Finally, I nod to the dark skinned girl making her know that I've acknowledged her.  
"Tell me what?" I ask Mr Solomon, leveling my gaze to his eyes still avoiding glancing at my mum. Mr Solomon presses a button on his desk. Suddenly, his room had made a whole transformation. I made my face look blank for the time. Finally, things stopped moving and the slight rumbling in the ground stopped. Mr Solomon, my mum and the others stared at me, looking for an emotion. Shock, perhaps. They got nothing.

I keep my face as smooth as marble as I look around the room again. Instead of certificates, there are swords and daggers that line the wall. Instead of the fake plants, there are holes in the ground. I suspect that one leads to the kitchen. The only thing that stays the same in the room is the air vents. There are still three.  
"Cameron this is a school for spies," Mr Solomon says. I nod and turn to ask him. Out of the corner of my eye I see the pixie girl look relieved that I am finally deciding to talk.  
"So how does this school work?" I ask. I see my mum open her mouth to talk but words spill out of my mouth before she could blink.  
"I mean do you still have the popular bitches and the Make- Up, Fake-Up clan? Or is the geek club more popular?" I say eying the pixie girls E=MC2 shirt. They all stare at me. The pixie girl's face is gone with any trace of relief it held before. The senators daughter spoke first,  
"I'm Macey McHenry. I think we'll get along fine." I make my face blank there is an awkward silence that hangs in the air.  
"Or maybe not," Macey says in a quiet voice, not meant for me to hear. I do, anyways.  
"Why don't you introduce yourselves," Mr Solomon says, shooting a glance at Macey. He heard what she said too.  
"I'll go first" he says "My name is Joe Solomon."  
"I'm Bex" The dark skinned girl says.  
"Liz" the pixie looking girl adds.  
"Cameron Carter" I say in a monotone.  
"Well do you want us to call you a nickname or something? Cameron is sort of a mouthful" Bex adds.  
"No" I say "If you can't call me Cameron don't call me at all" Nicknames remind me of when Aunt Abby was alive. I don't like nicknames anymore.  
"Let's get down to business" Mr Solomon finally says "I've called you three and Anna to help Cameron get to class, help her with her homework and other spy related stuff, understood?" Liz yawns while the others nod, none too happy about the arrangement.  
"Cameron, you will sleep in a single dorm due to the fact that the others are currently full we will try to fix you up with a dorm next semester. You will also start your studies with the kids under your grade due to the fact that you are a late starter" My mum states this forces me to actually look at her and see how much she has changed in the past 11 years. There are bags under her eyes that never used to be there but losing a husband, daughter and sister can do that to you. As soon as she finishes speaking I nod and turn to grab my class schedule from Mr Solomon. I get up and dust of my clothes.  
"Liz could you show Cameron to her dorm please" my mother says before she leaves the room. I have to stop myself from releasing a sigh of relief. Liz nods and then turns to lead the way. I trail behind, with my luggage clattering behind me.

**AN: In the original version of the story Zach was in this chapter but I cut him from the story for now I might put him in the story latter but as for now no Zammie. I mostly want this story to be about the girls but as I said that might change. Please review you awesome people because I am seeing views but no reviews and that makes me sad and I don't like being sad because being sad is sad. **


	4. Day 1

**I wish I could tell you that I wasn't always this way; that, once upon a time, I was and innocent person. I wish a lot of things, but, this is the thing that I wish the most.**

**Because despite how many times I wish,**

**I know in my heart that it will never come true.**

I didn't get a wink of sleep after I was sent to this dorm last night but then again I never sleep. For sleep is when the nightmares come. My internal clock notifies me that it is 6:30 am. Breakfast starts at 7:00am. So I quickly fix my spiky black wig which is attached to a bald cap so that people have to go through twice the trouble if they want to find out who I really am. My eyes seem to change colour depending on what I'm wearing and since I always where black, my eyes are always a piercing dark blue. It is way better than contacts. I put on some spiky rings and head out the door, 15 minutes early (**Rule number 33: If you can't be on time be early**) Better to encounter a few people than to walk in on the whole school.

I memorised my schedule last night and then spent most of the night wandering the empty halls of the Gallagher Academy finding quite a lot of secret passage ways (31 to be exact) that I know no one knew existed before, due to the sheer amount of dust and spiders. I enter the cafeteria to a hundred pairs of eyes.

Oh shot,

I guess I'm not early after all. The Cafeteria is so quiet that it gets eerie. After taking by breakfast I head to a small table in the corner of the room, able to fit only one or two people. I am content sitting here. Until a girl walks up to me. She walks with a purpose and carries a notebook in her right hand. As she gets closer I figure out if she is a threat or not. She's not. Finally she reaches me. The cafeteria had been quite on her walk here all one hundred pairs of eyes followed her progress and listened to the clicking sound that her heels made on the tile floor. Click clack, click clack, click clack. I could tell by looking in her eyes that she was loving the attention (**Rule number 30: If strangers know what you are feeling, you give them the advantage**.) She smiles when she reaches me and when I don't smile back, I detect a small sign of uneasiness by the way her smile flattered for a second before she plasters it on her face again.  
"Hello" she says "I'm Tina." I merely grunt in response and continue eating. She pulls out a chair to sit next to me. It makes an awful scraping sound that echoes across the walls. She launches into a round of questions:  
"Is it true that you came from the orphanage? Or were you actually raised by dogs in the wild? Do you break stuff for fun or are you emo? Why won't you let anyone call you by a nickname?" I ate my breakfast whist she chattered on. The people in the Cafeteria started whispers of conversations but never louder than Tina's questions. I finish my breakfast by the time she ends her last question. With a push of my chair, I stand up and head over to where I put the empty plates away. She watches me as I exit the cafeteria as well as the other hundred kids in there, realizing that I didn't answer a single question she asked.

My first class is COW: Countries of the world. Don't normal people cover this in primary school? I enter the class only to be met with the teacher. Mr Smith. Now this year Mr Smith looks like a typical guy in his 40's; Forty-Seven to be exact. But I know better. Mr Smith is a natural at deception he knows every way to make himself look like a totally different person. He knows when someone else is trying to look like a totally different person too; especially if he knew the person beforehand. So when Mr Smith stares at me when I enter the class room, I know I'm screwed.  
"Ah, Cammie Morgan. I was wondering when you'd show up at this school. Nice cover you have there" He says examining me "Have you been using the new finger prints I taught you to get?"

Rule number 10: Don't just react to a situation that takes you by surprise . RESPOND.

"I'm Cameron Carter now" I say.  
"And I'm the bogeyman" He replies. "Face it , Cam, you'll always be a Morgan."  
"Cameron," I correct him. This is going to be the worst spy class of my life. My first one but my worst one nonetheless.

I sit in the back of the COW class and never put my hand up, blending into the background like a chameleon. It's one of the things I do best, after all. I had to use it to my advantage; I'm a spy. When COW class end, I rush out; making it seem like I don't want to learn 'useless' stuff like that.

Next is Culture and Assimilation class. I blend into the crowd while walking to my destination, feeling like one of them. I know I'm not and the feeling quickly demolishes. I will probably never be one of them. The teacher is Madame Dabney. She wears glasses and walks around the class, seeming like she is floating. She teaches us manners, etiquette, dance and basically everything proper you need to learn when you're a spy. I listen in this class because even though I'm and experienced spy, I have not yet learned to be polite. I think it shows in my cover. Madame Dabney calls on me to answer a question and I answer flawlessly, but not as flawless as I want. She nods at me and moves on to ask another person a question, leaving me determined to learn to the best of my abilities. For the rest of the class I plan how to be the best. I plan to be better than the best. I plan to be perfect.

Mr Mosckowitz is the teacher of my next class and I wonder if anyone else my age is in a grade lower than they should. I remember the files I searched on the internet about the Gallagher Academy. I'm the only one.

Mr Mosckowitz teaches us data encryption and mathematics for people that is twice the age of most of the spies in the class. I listen with rapt attention and blend into the background, sitting in the back of the class. He doesn't glance back at me once. No one does. I am Glad. I'm not perfect in this class either and I'm getting frustrated.

**AN: Hey thanks for reading. Same jist review if you loved it review if you hated it review if it was meh. Just review please. I want to hear from you guys give me suggestions, ideas, theories or just if you wanna talk. Thanks for reading and a special thanks to BooksLover2000 who reviewed on every single chapter thank you it made my day.**


	5. How can they be so smart and so stupid

**Lies are easy to say. I could say, "I'm fine." Or, "I'm Okay." Or, "I feel great." And you'd decipher that as the truth when all along it could be the biggest lie I have ever made. When you're a spy you have to be good at lying because after all the main job of a spy is making people trust you.**

I have no other classes after lunch. It's the small things in life that a person is most grateful for (notice the _sarcasm_) I see people walking to classes or to the library with arms filled with work to be done. I have no work after all it is my first day hear and according to the powers that be I need time to adjust. I act like they are right. (**Rule number 24: Let people underestimate you. That way they will never know for sure what you're capable of**.)

I work to my room and I dump everything onto my bed and my desk including the contents of my suit case. Then I start to sort out my belongings. Folders here, Binders there, Notebooks here, Pencils there. (**Rule number 1: The importance of an orderly mind**) In a few minutes I am done with the trivial objects then I get started on the less trivial. I place a Gun under my pillow and two others under a lose floorboard along with my set of throwing knives. Just because this is the Gallagher Academy doesn't mean there aren't people here who might want to kill me (**Rule number 5: Trust no one**) I'm happy I get my own room. At least privacy is an advantage of being put in this new school.

**Some things I know about this school:  
Students receive letters from there family two times a week.  
Girls in particular SPY girls take gossiping to a whole new level.  
They think they are good spies (in theory they are right in practice they are very very wrong)  
Their popularity pyramid consists of how well you can throw a punch.**

The list is ongoing. I'm putting more stuff on it (mentally) every minute. It's boring. I already know almost everything about this school and the people in it anyway. But as I already know, _almost_ doesn't cut it.

I find this school stupid. I've been walking in the shadows of the corridors for 34 minutes, surrounded by more than 20 kids 20 _spy_ kids. Not one of them as noticed me so far. It's infuriating. How are they supposed to survive in the spy world if they can't sense someone right beside them? How is it possible to be so smart and at the same time so STUPID? With an irritated shake of my head I decide to head back to my dorm before I lose it in a corridor full of spies in training.

I make my way back to my dorm but when I arrive I stand in front of the closed door and look into my perfectly organised room. Something isn't right. (**Rule number 11: Trust your instincts**) Ah, Bugs. Maybe everybody in this school isn't as stupid as I thought. Now I'm thinking about all the things I could do. They think I'm not a good enough spy to find out there are bugs in my dorm (they are wrong) and if I take them out, then what will they think? They'll get suspicious. It's too risky. So I simply walk around my dorm and check the bugs. There are five bugs in total 3 video and 2 voice. I silently walk over to the bathroom. Inside I look around. I only have one concern. If there is a bug in the bathroom, I'm taking them all off. I look around the and hold my breath. There are no bugs so with a sudden _whoosh_ I release the breath I was holding in.

I wake up soundlessly. Stretching my arms above my head I make sure to look at every bug in turn but then look away as if it was a total coincidence (**Rule number 22: There is no such thing as a coincidence**) I take everything I need and then I walk to the bathroom. Once I enter I close the door behind me and securely lock it. For the most crucial part, I take of my black wig and bald cap to let my dishwasher blond hair out. I hate it.

I strip and step into the shower and then proceed to take a shower (no dah) I succeed in keeping it under 2 minutes. I dry and proceed to change making sure both my hair and scars are securely hidden from view. I don't take my time while getting my supplies. I hurry and I am out of the room in 14 seconds.

It's confusing sometimes; being two different people. At least that's what I used to think before; when I was to different people. With Abby, I was myself, easy and never hard to be. When I was on missions I was whoever I wanted to be. I could be a Vanessa, a Lilly, an Emma; I could even name myself December and no one would be the wiser. I was like dress up but with identities. Katie today, Moira tomorrow and maybe I'll be myself when I have the time. But then things changed. They always do.

**AN: Sorry I know I took ages to update. I will try not to do that again. I have confession to make the reason it is taking me so long is because I am reading Harry Potter for the first time in my life and it has me sufficiently hooked. So please review and save me from the impending angst that is the Order of the Phoenix. Anyway I hope you liked this chapter. Also please tell me if you want me to continue with the rule thing I have a total of 55 written down to use at some point but let me know if you want me to continue or if you hate it. **


	6. Notice things

**They say the worse thing a spy can do is get cocky. Is that what happened to Abby did she get too cocky and that's why they killed her? Is that what's going to happen to me one day? I'll get cocky and die?**

"Covert Operations" Mr Solomon said, walking between the rows of desks filled with teenage wannabe spies listening attentively. "Is something you don't need to know" At this I spot some disbelieving looks on the faces of the students including Bex.  
"Nope" He continued "It's not for everyone" at that I swear he looked at Liz. "You could do studies in a lab, or an office" His movements were silent like a panther as he walked around the class with his hands behind his back. "So I bet your wondering why you're here, if you don't have to be. If you're not…_fit_ to be…. You're here to show me if you… _want_ to be." At this Mr Solomon finished his speech and his eyes fell directly on me.

I know I shouldn't have, because it'll effectively make him acknowledge me more than the rest of the class but without really knowing why I was doing it. I looked him in the eyes smirked and then I winked.

I spend lunch alone. Again. But I noticed everything. (**Rule Number 47: Notice things**) I noticed Macey studying while pretending to read a gossip magazine. I noticed that Anna was only pretending to eat. I noticed the worry lines on Professor Buckingham's face that no amount of makeup could hide. I noticed everything. I was in no hurry I had nowhere important to go as Cove Ops ended directly after Mr Solomon's oh so inspiring speech. And even if I did, I wouldn't go I have decided to skip classes today.

After I finished my lunch and disposed of my cup and plate I turn to wandering the hall ways before finally disappearing into a secret passage way.

***Time skip***

"And what exactly did you hope to accomplish by leaving school grounds to go to the mall, Miss Carter" Mr Solomon said with his emotions surprisingly in check when you take into account the fury that was written on my mums face when she deposited me at his office.  
"A lot of stuff actually" I say, putting my feet up on his desk, my black combat boots knock down a vase which then shatters into pieces on the floor. I look at it with mock sadness and say a simple and uber sarcastic "oops" Mr Solomon doesn't even spare the vase a glance instead he raises an eyebrow at me and states  
"feel free to clarify" He looks at me like I'm a spoiled little girl throwing a tantrum. I keep Bitch mode in check and smirk lazily at him.  
"Nah" He still doesn't look the least be fazed he simply states  
"I believe you will explain more after we talk so let's move on I was wondering how you like our school"  
"Well I've realised a few thing such as the fact that Tina doesn't know how to Shut-Up. Actually, I don't think that word consists in her vocabulary. And that for a spy school your security really sucks." At that I get up and head to the door only suddenly deciding to throw a parting a shot so that my cover was still firmly in place (**Rule Number 49: Never let your guard down but always look at ease**)  
"You were right, now I do want to talk about why I ditched. It was because I freaking wanted to." Then I bang shut the door, effectively closing my dramatic departure.

**AN: I apologise for the ridiculously late update. I will try and update again today and if not today tomorrow to make up for it. I have now finished Harry Potter and I am now in the fandom. I'll be starting uni in about a week YAY and I will be studying writing in particular creative writing so hopefully the writing in this fic will start to improve. No one said anything about the rule thing that I started so I will continue it for now. So chuck me a review please please please :D **


	7. Merging of nightmares

**It's not hard being someone else. All you have to do is ****_become. _****But it's harder keeping your two personalities separate. Because, once in a while ****_they merge._**** And that's one of the greatest fears of a spy.**

Everything is wrong. Her stance is too tense, her feet too far apart, her body is angling in the wrong direction and she looks way too frustrated to actually hit the punching bag correctly. She hits the punching bag one last time with a frustrated moan. Letting her hands swing by her sides in defeat she quickly turns around and bends to get her water bottle but then the punching bag swings right back and smacks her in the butt (**Rule Number 54: Always keep your guard up**) She goes flying with a look of shock and hits the floor a foot away from where she was.

My eyes widen in astonishment how is it possible for someone to suck as bad as she does?

I watch her for a little while longer until I feel bad and a little sick at the way that she is messing up the simple art of hitting a punching bag. I mean come on it swung back and hit her in the butt. So I stealthily swing down from the air vent I was casually spying through and hit the ground without a sound. I blend into the shadows and lean against the wall.

She mutters under her breath:  
"I'm doing it wrong"  
"Way to point out the obvious" I say with a very exaggerated sigh. Pixie Girl shrieks.  
"Who are you, where are you?" She asks with her voice a few octaves higher than it should be.  
"Well you know I'm just a witch cooking dinner for her wizard husband" I say sarcastically. She's still searching around the small room for me her eyes passing the place I've hidden in several times. (**Rule Number 52: People see what they expect to see**)  
"It's past dinner time" she says _oh so smartly_ back.  
"No kidding," I reply with a roll of my eyes she can't see.  
"Show yourself you coward"  
"You know that line only works in movies right?" I reply.  
"Oh just shut up and stop hiding" Pixie Girl cries. "Please" she adds almost like a last resort. At that I lean out of the shadows and tap her shoulder. She jumps and shrieks.  
"Geez, save my ear drums, would you?" I ask, wincing. "You have some pair of lungs there, Pixie Girl"  
"My name is Liz" no duh  
"I know but you look like a pixie." At that she scowls and we have a mini staring contest until she gives up after a few minutes; water brimming against the lids of her eyes.  
"What d'ya want?" she asks with a scowl.  
"You suck" She musters up a pathetic glare and tried to look intimidating which is very hard when you look like a pixie or when you're Liz. A sentence slips out of my mouth one that I know I'll either hate or eventually appreciate later in life.  
"I could help"

***NBTT ***NBTT***NBTT***

I am such a freaking idiot. Really, I am.

In short this is what Liz did: laugh and ask how the new kid would know anything about packing a punch gave me a disbelieving glance. Picked up her water bottle and left the room. In exactly that order.

I lean against the wall and slide down to the floor, my shock making my knees feel weak. What had just happened? I was vulnerable. I wasn't mean. I didn't act the least bit jerkish. I acted like myself.

And darn that scared me.

***Time skip***

The vents are not a clean place. In fact the vents quite dusty you know that '_haven't been cleaned in over a century_' dusty. So why do I like to travel in them you ask? I have absolutely no idea.

Nausea engulfs me as I crawl through another vent entrance. So I start crawling through another set of vents to get back to my single room dorm. The thick dust around me swirls when I let out an uncalled for cough and doesn't help my sudden rising fever.

The silver- grey walls are surprisingly sturdy but once I think about it, it isn't really surprising. A spy school needs what a spy school needs. And apparently it includes vents that can hold the weight of a person or in fact more than one person.

Once I reach my room I lift the small metal grate placed in the top right corner of my room and shimmy my way out. Still hanging, I grip the lid with my left fingertips and slowly ease it back to its spot I drop to the ground and let my arms hang by sides. With a small clanging sound the lid falls back into place. I don't have the energy to scout out the room the way I normally do the minute I enter. The only thing I give notice to is my bed (which suddenly looks very comfy and welcoming) and the digital clock on my bedside; blinking quite hurriedly I might add to show that it was well past midnight and coincidently well past curfew as well. I don't even bother to change before dropping onto my bed like a dead weight since I can barely keep my eyes open without seen multiple images.

When was the last time I slept? Scratch that when was the last time I had a good night's sleep?

When I got myself barely comfortable on the mattress, the exhaustion overwhelmed me and I fainted into sleep.

A sheen of cold sweat covers my body and I'm trembling so bad that I know I can never let this happen again. At least not here where I can look vulnerable, _be _vulnerable. The clock by my bedside table catches my eye and I scowl in frustration once I notice that I've only gotten four hours sleep. I sigh in pure anger and run my hand through my hair. Well it'll have to last.

I calm down after a couple of moments and look around in confusion. Why don't I remember? And then I know. I don't remember because it's THE DREAM. I never remember the whole dream. It's always in flashes, small mobs and discrete images; sometimes repeating over and over again. I never understand it, I never remember it.

It's the fire it's always the fire that I remember the most. I know what happens. I don't forget no matter how much I want to. I always get remined in my nightmares. I may be a spy but I have fears. I'm not perfect. I'm afraid of my nightmares. Of how the only person I ever loved unconditionally and took care of me with passion, made sure they took her life instead of mine.

***NBTT***NBTT***NBTT***

The air vents are now my safe-haven. These dusty, dirty, sturdy walls are now my midnight means of transportation. It's ridiculous really, how in a school full of spies, I feel the safest in roach infested vents. I don't know where I'm travelling to. The vents are my safe-haven so I will go where they lead me. They lead me back to Liz.

**AN: Yes I have done it I have updated twice in one day. Consider this my apology for not updating for ages. Please please review. I love review legit I cheer when I get one and they inspire me to update faster so thanks to the guest reviewer who reviewed yesterday because you got me to start writing again and I am now filled with inspiration again. I will be starting to take this story in a different direction to the original one starting next chapter. So yes please review and I'll catch you guys later :D**

**Cheers**


	8. Gym on steroids

**There are usually two types of killers.**

**1\. There's the type to murder in cold blood and find it as a way of life. You could probably here them saying "He was going to die eventually" Or pull a Moriarty and go "That's what people DOOOOO"**

**2\. There's the second type- the type to kill to save the innocent and still feel guilty that he took a life.**

**I hope we both see which one is better. **

It's Monday and I still hate this school. I wish I could be back out there fighting an unknown enemy  
but still fighting.  
"Ms Carter, who do you think you are daydreaming in this class and what not" the twelfth grade English teacher demanded her pointer stick slamming down against my desk. Yes twelfth grade English was taught to 14/15 year olds at this school. And yes she used a pointer stick. I contemplate what I should say finally settling with,  
"Ms. Umbridge (I'm serious that's her name) who do you think you are, assuming things. I'm offended." I ended all that with a perfectly straight face sometimes I surprise even myself. The glare she shot me was the fiercest I've received from a teacher at this school yet.  
"One more step out of line and It'll be straight to the headmistress office for you" she threated.  
"Teachers these days" I mumble whilst rolling my eyes. Adding with a raise of volume, I say "As a matter of fact Mrs Morgan and I are getting fully acquainted you know if you take in the fact that I get sent there more times than class."  
"And whose fault is that?"  
"Well, I'm not the imbecile giving myself the detention slip so…"  
Needless to say, I got sent out.

***NBTT***NBTT***NBTT***

P&amp;E is what a normal person would title as 'Gym on Steroids'. Six kilometre runs are what we categorise as warm-umps and being fit is not a need it's a must. Maybe that's why almost everyone in this school looks like models. You learn how to punch hard enough to break a nose, dislocate a shoulder etc and if you are on the Covert Operations track you also learn how to shoot, through a knife etc.  
It turns out the Mr. Solomon was substituting P&amp;E today much to my displeasure. So when he asked everyone to form a circle and called on me I wasn't surprised. The sweaty panting group of kids stepped aside to let me into the inside of the circle.  
"Ms. Jones into the circle" Mr Solomon called. Ms Jones obeyed the order and stepped into the circle. Ms Jones AKA Maria was big. She was made of muscles, acne and a scowl as she regarded me an unwelcome interloper into a close knit cohort. She stood on the balls of her feet and due to the extra muscle on her right arm rather than the left it was obvious that she favoured her right arm.  
"You two" Mr Solomon says "Will fight until one combatant hits the floor and remains thre for four seconds. Questions, anyone?" I raise my hand.  
"Yes Ms Carter?"  
"What happens when we win"  
"You'll find out if you win" He replies meaning I wouldn't find out at all. "Anyone else?" He was met with silence.  
"Okay one the count of three" Mr Solomon starts, "One"  
Maria smirks and gets into place.  
"Two"  
She looks at me with a smirk that I know I can wipe off her face. I know I shouldn't fight because if I do, I'll blow my cover at worst but if she swings first I know I'll end up winning in ten seconds or less.  
"Three, go"  
So I take the first swing right where she can take me down, but she doesn't. Instead she rolls to the floor and tries to grip my leg and yank me down, which is extremely stupid (Since I can kick her in the face and leave her an eye so black people will be questioning if they're seeing her sould instead) but I let her anyway. I was feeling generous so I didn't kick her in the face after all. The fight is done in less than twenty seconds and ends with my face on the floor. Mr Solomon doesn't even bother to congratulate Maris. Instead he glares at me. I pretend to be busy dusting off my dark attire instead of meeting his glare with and even fiercer one. I casually start to make my way out of the crowd when Mr Solomon's sharp voice makes me freeze in place.  
"Ms Jones Please leave the inner circle" Maris scowls but relents and makes her way to her friends who clap her on the back and congratulate her with smug looks on their faces.  
"Ms Carter please refrain from leaving the circle. You will now be versing Ms Baxter"  
"But I lost" I protest  
"And that is precisely why you need to go again." I grit my teeth and scowl trying not to notice the over confident look in Bex's eyes she is top of the class for a reason.  
"And Ms Carter"  
"Yes sir?"  
"Try this time" I try not to turn bone white at his statement and face Bex. When Mr Solomon calls go I'm ready. At first I just dodge Bex's punches but then by sheer chance my eyes meet Liz's and I remember the scathing look in her eyes when I said I could help her and I lose it.

When Bex swings at me I'm ready. I grab her arm and throw her to the floor but she is up within seconds only to be struck by my fist and this time when she landed on the floor she stayed. To say the class was surprised would be an understatement. This time when I meet Liz's eyes she looks away.

Class is up and most of the students run to the door, not sparing me a second glace or praise. But then a group of four come up to me an praise me on my quick dodges and eventual good punch. Three of them give me thumbs up while the last one Anna stays and asks me questions.  
"I heard about you. You're the new girl, right? Well, anyway, you were awesome dodging her and such. No one has beaten her in ages. Good job. You have great agility and speed and you didn't even get a single scratch. I probably have the agility and speed of a walrus. A walrus I'm telling' you! And isn't this, like, the first class you actually participated in? And it's your first year and time too. I'm usually really shy but I feel like I can talk to you. You just have that vibe, ya know? So cool. And I'm not just saying that. You have mad skill. Did you join any teams back home? I bet you joined all of 'em at one point. Didn't ya?" I nod, wary of the girl who didn't have a mute button. Walrus? Teams? I have an open vibe? Since freakin' when?  
"My name's Anna Fetterman, by the way." I nod. And nod and nod. Maybe that way she'll get the hell away from me. I'm not here to make friends.  
"Well, anyway, let's talk later. Maybe at the movie night the girls are having tonight. Yea, I'll see you there! You just have to tell me about those sports you played." She leaves with a smile on her face. I look around the room if I forgot something (which is highly unlikely) but instead I see Mr. Solomon staring at me with a calculating expression. I quickly turn back around and casually jog to the door whilst anything but casual. He knows I've never joined a sports team in my life.

I push open the huge metal doors and they slam behind me with as much force I used to open it. According to the bang, it was a lot of force. Mr. Solomon is a trained spy. He knows that I wasn't trying the first time and that I've never played a mundane sport in my life, unless necessary. Being the Covert Operations teacher, he has probably looked through my file and did an intense background check on me. More than once. I lean against the old brick wall, out of sight to spy pupils and take a gulp of fresh air. I knew I shouldn't have winked at him. Mr. Solomon was suspicious. And that itself can almost blow my cover.

**AN: YAY I updated again give me a high five I am now on a roll again let's hope it stays that way. Anyone who read the original will notice that I made a decent change in this chapter but hey I have my reasons. As always please review as it will motivate me to update sooner. **


	9. I dig my grave

**I learnt to be a spy outside of the spy school. It wasn't like Gallagher Academy at all. It tested your strength; your ability to survive without love and the ability to see the only family you really know die at your feet. Maybe the kids in Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Woman were unconditioned but I just didn't feel like they were ready for an actual mission. But deep down, I don't think it really came down to that. It wasn't that they weren't ready for a mission; it was just that I thought they weren't ready for the type of mission I went through. The type if mission they'll eventually receive. **

The movie night happened before dinner and late in the everning which kind of kills the meaning of the phrase "Movie Night" Right after the last class ends all the girls rush to the Main room which was located in the left wing of the school (I've been there before what can I say exploring takes you places) It was a room that storages two wooden bunk beds which the girls pull close to the large flap screen T.V and lay on, two plush leather couches that are placed side by side in diagonal formation, a single red recliner and plenty of high definition. There are also two work desks that were moved to the far left side where a dusty lamp stands rigidly and a digital clock blinks the time in faded red. The girls assemble themselves on the couch, bed, and floor; carrying multiple pillows and blankets around them to make themselves comfortable. When the movie finally turned on, (they choose to watch a sappy movie) I managed to sneak away half way through (while they paused the movie to pick what they should watch next; it was Dirty Dancing) and go to my dorm to finish next month's homework. Movies aren't really my thing anymore. Dinner is at 8:00 and I manage to sneak back into the movie room while the credits roll down the second movie, marking its ending. I'm positive no one noticed that I had left and I blend right into the crowd of girls as they make their way to the cafeteria.

***NBTT***NBTT***NBTT***

I find myself in the vents again. Once again they lead me to Liz. I arrive just when Liz is unlocking the door but I don't announce my arrival until I see her endurance crumble and her will lose hope. Until she stops punching the punching bag. The first and foremost, most important thing to a spy; the first rule you ever learn—Notice things. For a girl who has one of the highest I.Q's in the state, she's a pretty bad at that. And for some reason, I plan to help her improve; Completely throwing my cover under the bus. But every time I think that, I pretend I am Aunt Abby. Selfless and brave—the perfect combination for a perfect spy. I have to reach that point someday anyway so why not dig my grave and start now?

**AN: I know its short and mostly a filler but I'm uploading the next chapter in about an hour probably so hold on till then. But please review because that makes me really happy :D**


	10. SPIDER!

**"My whole life is a web of lies." I said that once to a civilian. I was at the book store and doing what I did best: blend. But that day, someone saw me. It was a guy and he called himself Ezra. He was pretty cute; I had to give him that. And he wouldn't lay off flirting. I was an élite spy and maybe it'd work out in an alternative universe, but just not now. I lied and told him that I had a boyfriend and showed him a picture of a pretty buff guy I carry around for situations like this. He laid off and we talked about books. At the time, I was in Canada and my cover was shy and quiet so hence what I was doing in a book store. "Every body's intent on doing it right that they don't even notice that right is so wrong. Am I doing it right?" He quoted from an author. I replied back with a totally different quote, by me (but he didn't know that), "My whole life is a web of lies." He looked at me funny and a small smile graced his face while he asked, "Does that mean you don't have a boyfriend?" **

I almost let my cover slip this week and for a spy especially a spy with a price on her head that is a bad bad thing. I almost laughed. I was sitting silently and alone in the corner of the room during, eating a plain ham and cheese sandwich. The cafeteria was tense and nearly quiet with only a few murmuring in the air some but not all of the classes had exams coming up and they were slightly stressed. Everything was fine until proud and all mighty Bex saw a spider. Her boisterous voice carried over the nearly silent conversations. The first words out of her mouth were,  
"HOLY SHIT, IT'S A SPIDER." Who knew that the girl who held herself up so proudly was afraid of spiders? At first, I stifled my grin as the room became quiet and eyes focused on her and terrified face.  
"For the love of …" I heard Macey mutter under her breath from the across the room. She wasn't as quiet as she intended to be. After slipping off her shoe, (which were more sensible then Bex's were, might I add) she began to lower it to the spider to kill it. Before she could, it moved—straight to their faces.  
"HOLY EFFEN HELL IT'S MOVING!" Bex shrieked. The girls jumped away and the spider gradually took a stroll up his silk web that apparently brought him to the lovely girls. I ever so casually glanced to the ceiling and then moved my eyes to take a stroll over the faces of the students, who stared at her miffed and irked at the girls behaviour. As I did so, Mr. Smith strode up to them with a flustered face on,  
"Bex!" he said with convincing anger, "Language!" I could see right through it though; he found this absolutely hilarious.  
"English!" She huffed before crossing her arms over her chest and slamming her rear to her seat, joining Macey who quickly sat down once she realized (before Bex) what ruckus they were causing. Mr. Smith raised an angry eyebrow and, to everyone's shock, gave her detention before walking off. Bex gaped at the detention sheet for a few moments, her face the same color as the white material, before walking out with as much dignity she had left. It was quite funny. Mr. Smith turned to me for a second to send me a small, unnoticeable wink. He, like me, knew that the spider was fake and he, like me, knew who did it.

I looked down at my plate and I had to bite my lip to hold in the crazy urge to chuckle. I guess I should've noticed that that had been the first sign something was severely wrong. I almost laughed—something I haven't done in a year or two—and that meant I was getting too comfortable. Too attached, too loyal. That shouldn't have happened.

**AN: Yay two chapters in one day. Yes they are both shorter than normal but I consider it an accomplishment as it is my first week at uni and I'm still able to update. Please review I want to hear theories and stuff and the first person to spot the Pretty Little Liars reference I chucked in will get a sneak peek of the next chapter plus reviews make me want to update faster so REVIEW :D**


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